


A Pious Sin

by 11astralnautical11



Category: The Dreamers (2003)
Genre: F/M, dub-con, slightly alternate universe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11astralnautical11/pseuds/11astralnautical11
Summary: Strict parents breed sneaky nymphomaniacs and Matthew is about to find out just how insatiable a particularly girl's appetite is for sexual chaos.  Whoever said praying could be this sinful? Giving a whole new meaning to "get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness".
Relationships: Matthew / Original Female Character
Kudos: 2





	A Pious Sin

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic & I don't know what the hell I'm doing but HERE WE GO  
> Might make a part two if I'm not lazy 
> 
> Even though this takes place in an "alternate universe" , I imagine this happening after Matthew finds Isabelle & Théo sleeping together. My boy is angry, confused, and sexually charged so he seeks asylum at a church? Even though he isn't explicitly religious but ahaha .. alternate universe? 
> 
> Hopefully ya'll enjoy this weird little fever dream...

Paris. 1968. Friday, 10:43am. 

\--

A small frame came into view over the horizon. A girl, about 'yea high' with long black, cascading coils glows in the ambient rays of the morning sky. She saunters on the cement sidewalk, no doubt a temporary wave of confidence in her stride. A peachy-white dress drapes down her feminine frame, accentuating her growing hips. The peter pan collar lengthened her neck, just slightly, and it made her feel more womanly. A pair of black and brown oxford shoes accompany the girl as she makes haste to the Saint-Ambroise Chapel, just up the hill on South Beauregard Street. Her white, frilly gloves and white pantyhose compliment her inner soul: pure and always yearning to be the best version of itself.

On the outside at least...

Now, she has something heavy weighing on her chest that she needs to get out. Something is nipping at the pit of her stomach and is ever growing larger by the minute. Without anyone else to turn to, she wanted to go somewhere to be alone with her thoughts. The constant nagging of her parents weren't any help and she didn't want to disclose her darkest secrets to her friends. They'd belittle her and she wouldn't hear the end of it at school. 

She needs relief in a sanctuary where judgement is not passed so easily. 

"Please be open, please be open, please," she whispers to herself, full on sprinting towards the chapel's doors. It was a Friday morning, where most people of the town would either be at home or downtown, splurging their hard earned money on trinkets to fill a bottomless void that preyed on their beings.

Her small hands pull on the wooden chapel doors. Luckily, they open with ease. She sighs in relief, making her way into the building without hesitation. Walking down the main aisle, she is greeted by an older couple, two familiar faces. They smile at her and offer a wave.

"We were just on our way out, Felicity," the man stands to his feet.

"If you could be a dear and turn the lights out when you're finished, that would be lovely," the woman interjects. Her smile wavers as she notices the exasperated expression on the young girl's face. The eldest of the two puts a cautious, and wrinkly, hand on Felicity's shoulder. A face of concern is written on the couple's faces. "Is there something the matter, sweetie?" the frailness of the elder woman's voice is evident.

"No -- no, I'm fine. I just need to grab a few things for my mother. She told me to fetch them for her, they're in the back ." Felicity musters up a fake laugh and begins walking towards the doors in the back of the church. She's not trying to be rude, she's just in a hurry.

"Well that's no problem. We'll see you on Sunday then," and with that, the couple exit the chapel into the glow of the morning sun. Felicity straightens her posture as she opens the chipped doors behind the pastor's podium, entering beyond the boundaries of everyday churchgoers. Her fingers play in the frills at the end of her dress in apprehension. She figures the elder couple were the last two in the chapel and that thought alone calms her nerves. Rounding the corner, she is met with the one thing she feels that can release her from her perils; the confessional.

Her gloved hands tug on the gilded handle, revealing a place to sit and weigh her sins. She takes a step inside, placing herself on the small bench, and lets the door close behind her. She removes her gloves and places them on her lap. Felicity breathes a heavy sigh, her legs crossed in an awkward fashion. Her brown eyes look up at the wired partition of the confession. Her plump lips open, a string of frazzled chaos following along with it.

"I know the pastor is long gone, but, I wanted to talk to you. God, I need to tell you something and you're not gonna like it," her voice falters at the end. The butterflies in her stomach begin to hatch from their crystallized cocoons. "I've been having these temptations for awhile now, you know that. And -- and I've been trying my best to ignore them. That's what my sister told me to do at least," she pauses, "but today, I couldn't do it. I couldn't keep this a secret any longer. I've sinned and I know I need to pay the price before anything else happens." Felicity looks down at her damp palms, salty tears stinging her eyes. The guilt and shame, overwhelming at best.

She had been raised on a strict diet: Catholicism on Sundays, secondary school Monday through Friday, work on Saturdays at the library. Simple enough. 

She and her family had moved from America to France to escape the racial tension of the states only three years ago, when Felicity was 14. This relatively new lifestyle was thrusted upon her, mostly by her mother, so that she could "blend in". In reality, Felicity didn't really care about religion or that sorry excuse for a job. She was exhausted. She wanted to be a normal teenager who went to the occasional party, engaged in questionable behavior, and made some mistakes along the way.

But, Au contraire! That wasn't an option. Nothing more than a fantasy. 

"Be as invisible as possible," her mother would say. Now, her mother is a primary school teacher and her father is a journalist. "We give you a roof over your head, food, and water, now you give us good grades and obedience," her father's orders echo in Felicity's mind, inducing a tension headache. 

If only they knew what strict parents produced -- sneaky children -- they wouldn't be so quick to command. 

Her racing thoughts are interrupted as she hears slight stirring from the other side of the partition. Her eyes immediately dart to the screen. Her head cocks to the side, eyebrows furrowed.

"Hello?" her unstable voice calls out. Perhaps the pastor had stayed longer than she suspected.

"Uh, hi," a voice she did not recognize answers back.

Was it the voice of God?

No, can't be. I don't even believe in God... 

This voice hardly sounds ancient, it definitely belongs to a young adult -- male. 

"My apologies for staying silent, I didn't want to interrupt your confession. You can continue if you would like. If you will allow it, I want to be of some assistance to you," the unknown voice speaks up a bit. Felicity squints against the cheap lighting of the confessional, peering through the partition to see a shadowy figure. She can only make out the collar of the unknown person. Unsure of the circumstances, she reaches a hand to exit the confessional.

"Please," the voice calls out, knowing of her plans to escape. Felicity sighs once more, retiring back to her seat. 

"Alright, I guess. It is anonymous, after all," Felicity grins, pulling on the peter-pan collar of her dress. Her weight shifts towards the partition, the person on the other side lets out a chuckle as the shadow nods its head in agreement.

"Tell me more about these temptations you speak of. Alleviate your emotional pain, I accept the burden of carrying it for you," they say in a melodramatic manner. He was obviously playing the role of a pastor, the little jokester. Sensing his comedic undertone, she figured she'd spill all of her guts out anyways to toy with this stranger. Plus, he didn't have a french accent, so it's possible he's only a tourist that was a bit too nosey and ended up here for a laugh. 

Catch him off-guard, she thought.

"Well, it started with these ... desires, I suppose, a couple of months ago," Felicity sits upright, shoulders back, "when this boy I fancied kissed me. It had been my first, yes, but certainly not my last. I kept him hidden from my family. Both of my parents are devout worshipers to the church and wanted my siblings and I to adhere to their rules -- no risque behavior of any kind until marriage. Things like that and ---" she is cut off by the mysterious man.

"Good news! Being curious and exploring is not a sin in it of itself. Although your parents may be strict in that sense, remember that you do have the power to exercise your own free will if that it what you desire. Don't be ashamed for being a well, teenager," he continues, "but, please, do go on."

"I wish it was that simple but," Felicity frowns and bites her inner cheeks, "I wanted him to take me last night," she pauses once more, frankly unsure of how much detail to include.

"Alright, take you where? Out to eat?" the voice chuckled, not fully understanding her guilty tone. 

"No," Felicity punctuated. 

"I told him to come into my bedroom and have his way with me. The desire to be made love to had taken over ever fiber of my being. I had undressed for him, let him explore my body, as I did to him," her quickening heartbeat recounts the sensations she felt just last night. "When he finally laid me down on the bed, we, well," she pauses as she hears a strangled sound come from the other side. She squints at the shadow, appearing to be making some sort of movement. "I'm sorry, do you want me to stop?" she questions in fear that this person may be too disgusted by her actions to continue.

"No, no ... you're fine, keep going, as long as it helps you," an out of breath shadow replies. Felicity ignores the panting and continues, all in a desperate attempt to save herself from the wrath of God, but really, from her own guilty conscience. 

"We didn't have intercourse, but I let him do everything else to me. And I enjoyed it. I loved every second of it, how he made me feel.. My body writhed with pleasure by the time we were through. Even after he left me in that state, on my bed, I used my own fingers to replicate his actions. I never told him about that part. I let it fester inside of me because I deserved it. I allowed someone who wasn't God to view my body in such a compromising state and for that, I am a sinner," Felicity breathes out a defeated cry, expecting to hear chastisement from the other end. "His fingers were covered in my sin and I let him have a taste. It was exhilarating." Even in reliving last night, her inner thighs tremble with anticipation. A deafening silence heightens her anxiety over the situation.

Did I say something wrong, did he leave? She wonders in the back of her mind.

"And you want to know something even better?"

Silence.

"It was my literature teacher from school," Felicity has a flashbulb memory of their first encounter in class. He's young and fresh out of Uni, so the age difference didn't bother Felicity as much as it should have. 

She peeks through the partition, not seeing the shadow anymore. She chokes down a sob, quickly exiting the confessional. She had made a huge mistake in revealing too much of herself, once again. With blurred vision, she yanks open the door to the other side of the partition on account of her impulse nature and curious mind.

Her eyes widen, her jaw becomes slack at the sight. A shuddering body sits before her on an identical bench to the one on the other side of the booth. His head is rolled back, neck tense in that position, with a hand covering his mouth. His white button up shirt is completely undone, matching the state of his slacked dress pants. The black fabric pooled at his ankles, along with his grey boxers. His right hand had long since ceased its up and down motion on the angry, red fleshy member that blessed Felicity's vision. A sticky white substance coats his shaft, evidence of the ordeal. His blonde hair, tangled with lust, was disheveled and out of place. Heavy breathes escape his puckered lips as his blue eyes make direct eye contact with Felicity's wide ones. His body straightens up at the realization that he, indeed, had been caught red handed. The grip on his member loosens as he attempts to cover himself with his sweaty palms. Unable to move or speak, Felicity's knees begin to buckle. She holds herself up with the last bit of strength she has left.

"I -- look, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen this, you weren't meant to," his hands go up in defense, accidentally revealing himself to the flustered girl in front of him. He quickly replaces his hands to censor himself once more. Suddenly, a warmth radiates from Felicity's core as her face softens at the sight of this vulnerable man before her. Behind her, she lets go the confessional door, allowing it to close fully. The ceiling light swings back and forth, creating intricate patterns on the mahogany walls. There is hardly enough room for the both of them in there as the temperature of the small cubicle begins to rise. "I can explain, I was just, uh," he stammers as a ways of justification. His averted eyes dart across the walls, looking for an answer.

"You were just getting yourself off to my confessions." Felicity's expression wavers between embarrassment and resentment. She chokes down her emotions, making a small step forward as she towers over the cowering man. He attempts to back away from her on the bench, bumping his head on the wall behind him, in the process.

"No, that's not true at all--" he is cut off once again.

"Yes , you were. Admit it, you voyeur." Felicity grabs a fist full of blonde hair, pulling him forward in a taut motion. "You liked hearing what I do to myself, in my bedroom, huh?" she stares him down. A lustful emotion guides her actions as the emboldened teen kneels down to eye level with the beautiful stranger. Taking in his facial features, he couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than her -- not that age ever stopped her from getting what she wanted. She leans forward, hungrily attaching her lips to his. Her dark skin contrasted with his white one under the dim lighting. She knows he has him under her will. He elicites a quiet moan that rumbles in her eager throat. While entrancing him, she slips off her dainty dress and kicks off her shoes. She pulls away, noticing her free hand that previously wandered down his exposed chest, is covered in a milky white film. She lets go of his hair, briefly holding her fingers up to the light. "What's this?" she asks, innocence dripping in her meek voice.

A playful smile tugs on his lips as a red radiance paints his cheeks. "Taste it and find out," his cerulean eyes watch her every move, drinking up the richness of her body. Felicity places her pointer and middle finger in her mouth, sucking gently, all the while maintaining eye contact.

"You taste like heaven," she giggles, unbeknownst of the effect her feigned innocence has on her subject of interest. She drops down on all fours, her mouth close to his groin. He watches her intently, soaking up her slow and purposeful movements. She takes a quick glance at the swollen appendage before batting her long eyelashes up at him, "Can I have some more?" she asks. The stranger blinks stupidly before humming with content. His body twitches involuntarily once one of her small hands reaches out to tug on the appendage. 

Her tongue darts out at his slit, circling the entrance with curiosity. Felicity continues these small motions, kitten-licking his tip to test the boundaries. He lets out a throaty moan, his face twisted with pleasure. The sensitivity from already cumming earlier nearly throws him over the edge a second time. With a little more confidence, perhaps a bit too much, Felicity takes half of the length into her warm mouth. Immediately, she gags, tears pricking her eyes. She remains there, getting used to the feeling of barely being able to breathe, before swirling her tongue around the length of his hard cock.

Her large brown eyes stay focused on his writhing body and occasionally glance up at his eyes for guidance when his hand pushes some curls out of her face. Her frenzied patterns scream inexperience; which, to his guilty pleasure, admires. His moans increase in volume as his body increases in restlessness. Her warm hand at the base of his shaft, half-forgotten and lazily pumping, is nothing compared to the wet cavern sucking him off with such filthy sounds. 

"Feels so good," he murmurs in between his labored breathing. His toes curl with anticipation and he needs to stop himself right then and there before he paints her throat with his cum. He gently lifts her head off of his cock with a pop, some saliva strands connect the two. Her lips are reddened from the ordeal. 

He, mesmerized by her body, stands up in front of the bench. He easily has more than half of a foot's height on her, but Felicity's sexual dominance brings him down a few pegs. She grabs the loose material of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him in for another kiss. She presses her warm body into him, inhaling his naturally enticing scent. His hands make their way into her shoulder length coils, before they trail down her spine, and end at the clasp of her lacy bralette. He pulls away, looking into her eyes for a sign of consent. She smiles, nodding her head, and reattaches their lips. He smiles back into the kiss and begins unclasping the bralette. The pink, translucent material falls to the ground with a light thud. He moves to attack her neck in a growing desire to taste her body. Small love marks appear as she cranes her neck to one side, allowing for access. Her own fingers dance around the waistband of her pantyhose and panties as she shimmies them down her legs, stepping out of them in a hastened fashion. The growing wetness between her legs drip down her folds and onto her thighs.

"Why didn't you leave after you walked in on me?" He whispers in between his feathering kisses. Felicity ponders for a moment, looking back on that blissful intrusion.

"Because, I'm tired of waiting. I want to know what it felt like to have something fill me up, to feel whole for once," Felicity pulls away for a moment, admiring his glistening body. She takes one of his hands, separating his fingers, and licks each individual digit. She looks up through thick eyelashes as he stares intently at her bobbing head. She guides his saliva coated fingers to her core. "Touch me, please."

He nods his head frantically, gulping in the process. The blonde's unskilled fingers make small circles around Felicity's swollen clitoris, not quite entering just yet. Small moans erupt from her throat as she leans into the warmth of his body. His unoccupied hand holds Felicity's back, supporting her weight.

"Is this okay?" he asks, hoping for reassurance. Felicity, biting her already reddened lips, nods as a response.

"Mhm," she whimpers out, inhaling sharply at his increased pace. He catches her whimpers in his throat as he initiates a kiss. His fingers below, speed up, still teasing her entrance. A growing impatience stirs deep within Felicity's belly as she moves with his fingers, nearly forcing them inside of her. That familiar sensation begins to grow inside of her core as she becomes closer to the edge of ecstasy. Her body trembles slightly, indicating that her climax is nearing. She clenches her thighs in an attempt to prolong the experience -- a technique she read in one of those nude magazines she stole from her older sister. 

"Not yet, not yet," his fingers leave the wetness of her heat. He pulls away quickly, as not to rekindle her imminent climax. "I want to feel you around me first." Felicity nods feverishly in agreement, pushing against his chest back towards the wooden bench behind him. His soft hands make their way to her waist as she closes her eyes, letting her body fall into his lap. She straddles him, his lengthy body devouring her small one. A strangled moan is let out as Felicity adjusts her weight, grinding against his sensitive member.

"Does it hurt?" she whispers, holding a dainty hand to his flushed cheeks. She searches his eyes for a sign of discomfort. He shakes his head 'no' and grins at her caring attitude. "Good," her eyelids lower as she moves, once again, against the tip of his now throbbing cock.

Neither of them had had enough experience as to know what to do next.

With one hand around his member, and one on her waist, he guides his already leaking tip towards her entrance. Their foreheads are pressed together in a sweaty mess. Slowly, the blonde pushes into the raven-haired girl on top of him. The girth of his tip immediately fills her to the brim with an overwhelming sensation. The lower half of her body tenses up as she droops her arms over his shoulders for support. His hips buck upwards at the waves of pleasure that overtake his body. This sudden movement causes Felicity to yelp out in pain at the tightness of her core, something she didn't anticipate. A burning sensation overtakes her body as salty tears well up in her eyes. His hand swipes a few tears away, rubbing over her face for reassurance. His bulbous cock stretches out her virginal walls as he pushes upwards into her, fully sheathed inside of her heat. Moisture drips down Felicity's thighs, a speckled stream of red landing on the blonde's thighs as well.

"It's okay, you're okay," he brushes some of her kinky coils out of her face. Her closed eyes soften at his words. He moves slightly, testing the waters. Felicity lets out a sharp groan, not yet accustomed to something so large inside of her sacred cavity. She lets her body fall forwards, resting her head on his shoulder. His protective arms wrap around her waist, pulling them impossibly closer. As he begins to move inside of her, slow and precise thrusts, he lays his head on her shoulder as well, leaving small kisses.

"More," Felicity demands, as her shaking body implies the opposite.

"Give yourself time to adjust--"

"More," she forces her hips down on his length, hissing at the immediate pain. "I need to feel the pain, I need to be punished," a smile creeps up her face as more tears stream down, a few making their way onto the blonde's shoulder. She hides her shameful face, knowing full well that she's enjoying every second of this sweet torture.

"Okay," he breathes out, his soft voice rings in her ears. Without much hesitation, his pace increases. The wet sound of skin slapping together creates a sinful harmony as it reverberates off of the walls in a poignant manner. The knotting feeling begins building in both of their groins, daring to explode at any moment. The friction between Felicity's thighs continue to rattle her weakened body. Beads of sweat lined the blonde's forehead as he mewls with ecstasy. The sharp pain in Felicity's gut subsides into a more pleasurable feeling. Pre-cum drips from the folds of the withering girl in his lap. Her muffled moans come to a halt once a slam is heard from the other side of the confessional. Both of the young bodies stop their actions, looking back and forth between themselves and the partition.

Heavy sobs and labored breathing are heard from the other side, someone had just entered the confessional booth.

"Please, father, forgive me of my sins. Relinquish my family and I from evil. Mon cœur et mon âme n'appartiennent qu'à toi." an older woman's voice says from the other side.

Felicity, hot with lust, covers the blonde's mouth with one hand. She stares directly into his blue eyes, a fire within her, unrelenting and prevalent. It would be foolish to think that some sobbing woman could come between her and the deflowering process. With that, Felicity slowly moved her hips up and down, riding the blonde. His eyes widened in surprise, shaking his head in an attempt to stop her movements. Her impish smile remains, as well as the hand covering his mouth. One of his hands gropes at her body, finding its way to her small breasts. He plays with the supple flesh, earning a quiet mewl from Felicity. Her head lolls to the side as her pace quickens, and the length of his members reaches her inner vortex of flesh. Her free hand grips the edge of the bench for stability, her knuckles nearly turning white with force. 

The woman on the other side continued to pray aloud, not having any idea of the sinful actions that are occurring on the other side of the gilded screen.

A throaty moan, quiet enough to not be heard between the woman's sobs, causes Felicity's hand to tremble. The large hand around her waist tighten as the pulsating appendage inside of her twitches, sending a flood of white cream into her. Her back aches at this new sensation. She continues to ride his overly sensitive cock, grounding herself deeper into his lap. The blonde's limp body is still shaking with pleasure as the after shocks of his orgasm render him paralyzed. Flushed skin, sweaty hair, a slightly bruised shoulder where Felicity had previous latched onto -- the sight itself is enough to send the closeted nymph over the edge. Her body locks, shaking vigorously at the sensual waves of euphoria. A sharp yelp becomes lodged in her throat due to their circumstances. Her body falls forward, matching the state of her lover. Their heavy breaths mix into one, their heaving chests in synchronicity. The blonde places small kisses on her cheek and earlobe, completely exhausted from the ordeal. They sit in silence for what feels like hours until a loud slam breaks their trance. No longer did they hear the woman's crying, just her footsteps echoing in the empty halls outside of the confessional. Her hurried footsteps became softer and softer until she finally left the church through a side exit.

Felicity, with what little strength she has left, shifts off of his lap and stands up. Her fluids mixed with his create a sticky white substance between her folds. She takes two fingers and picks up the mixture. She inspects it, smiling at it. The stunned blonde man sits, watching her with curiosity. Felicity licks some of the substance off of her fingers before putting the remaining substance in front of his lips. Without hesitation, he connects their eyes, and sucks the rest of the delicious sin off of her fingers.

She brushes a piece of hair stuck to his forehead, "Et nous sommes un. And we are one," she whispers, planting a small kiss on his plump lips. Her fantasy had been fulfilled. She was now bonded to another soul, a piece of her inside of him, and a piece of him forever inside of her. She picks her dress up from the ground and brushes off any impurities. With ease, she slips it on, but not before clasping her bralette around her bust. She carefully puts on her pantyhouse and adjusts them to a proper fit. The entranced blonde had not yet moved, nor attempted to clothe himself; his body was too fatigued.

Felicity pushes open the wooden door, a contrasting cool wind causing her to shiver. She looks side to side, ensuring that no one else is around. The coast is clear. She quickly bends down to put on her shoes, cheekily giving the blonde one last show for the hell of it. Felicity fluffs out her coils from its matted state inside of the hot box of the confessional. She turns on her heels, giving a glance at him, "Thank you," is all she says before hopping down the two steps in front of her.

The blonde man abruptly stands with wobbly balance, unsure of how to respond, "Wait, wait, wait. I never had to pleasure of knowing your name, miss," it comes off as more of a question than a statement.

Walking backwards now while facing the open door of the confessional, Felicity beams with self-satisfaction. "Oui, but it is a confessional, is it not? It's supposed to remain anonymous, my love." She shrugs in a playful manner, blowing a dramatic kiss, before she turns around and begins limping towards the exit. The soreness between her legs already began to take a toll on her small frame. She opens the door of the church, a warm breeze fanning her face from the clear blue sky. "Until next Friday," she calls back, before closing the double doors. She laughs, placing a hand on her belly. She continues to skip all the way down the hill, riding her high out for as long as possible.

By now, he must've reached inside of his pants pocket to see the souvenir that Felicity had left him; her frilly panties. But, she didn't need them anymore, those were child's play. On to explore more womanly things disguised in the shadows of the city. This thought alone was enough to bring another wave of wetness to the hilt of her swollen lips.

**Author's Note:**

> ** Sidenote: I am neither religious, nor French, so sorry if I fucked anything up with that. I tried doing some research so ahhh the attempt was there. HOPEFULLY YOU ENJOYED THIS SHIT SHOW, I'm going to stop overcompensating now... have a lovely day.


End file.
